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XVI.
MRS. RAMSBOTTOM'S CONUNDRUMS.

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To John Bull.

Montague Place, Dec. 28, 1827.

Dear B.,—I never like to fail writing to you at this season, but I don't like puttin you to the expense of postage; and yet, when I hear of any thing peakant, I wish to send it you.

You must know that me and all the gulls have taken to making knundrums, as they call them, and what we can't make, we collex. We got the idear from having purchased some of the hannual perodicals. I boght the Omelet, and Lavinia boght the Bougie, and they set us upon putting knundrums into our Albions.

It being Christmas, and it coming but once a year, I have sent you some of ours, which perhaps you won't print, but may serve to make you laugh.

What three letters spell Archipelago—(what that is I don't know; but this is the answer)—E. G. and C.

Why is a man about to put his father in a sack like a traveller on his way to a city in Asia?—Because he is going to Bag Dad.

Why is a child with a cold in its head like a winter's night?—Because "it blows, it snows."—(nose, you know.)

Why is the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland like a man inquiring what o'clock it is?—Because he is as King for the time.

If a pair of spectacles could speak, what author would they name?—Eusebius—(You see by us.)

Why is a flourishing landlord sure to have plenty of relatives?—Because he must have Ten-ants.

What are the best shoes for wet weather?—Pumps.

Why is a sermon on board ship like Sir Edward Codrington's red ribband?—Because it is a deck oration.

Why is a very little devil sitting on the top of a cow-house like a man who has squandered all his property?—Because he is Imp over a shed.

What sea would one wish to be in on a rainy night?—A dry attic.

Why is a libeller in Newgate like a traveller who has caught a rheumatism at a bad inn?—Because he suffers for lying in damp sheets!

Why is a gentleman in a Calais packet on a stormy day, like a gentleman sailing in part of the Mediterranean?—Because he is amongst the Cyclades.

Why are glass coaches so plentiful in London?—Because they are without number.

When is a door not a door?—When it is a-jar.

When is it more than a door?—When 'tis to!

Why is the root of the tongue like a dejected man?—Because it is down in the mouth!

Why is a hired landau not a landau?—Because it is a landau let!

Why is a lean Monarch constantly worrying himself?—Because he is always a thin king!

Why is a Tragedy a more natural performance in a theatre than a Comedy?—Because the boxes are always in Tiers!

Why is Parliament-street like a compendium?—Because it goes to a bridge!

If all the alphabet were invited to dinner, why could they not all accept the invitation?—Because six of them come after T.

Why is a boy doing his first sums like a serpent erect?—Because he is an adder-up!

And last, dear Mr. B. (which I will not tell you),

Why am I like a sheep's tail?

Yours always,

Dorothea R.

Note.—Several of the above, with all respect to our dear friend Dorothea, are extracted from that excellent paper the Berkshire Chronicle, and others from a small book called "D'ye give it up?" sold at a Charitable Bazaar, established at Kensington.

J. B.

The Choice Humorous Works, Ludicrous Adventures, Bons Mots, Puns, and Hoaxes of Theodore Hook

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